Group Project (2)
I glanced at Ifrin and Sylvia, who sat at the same table. The two, who had coincidentally been grouped together, were glaring at each other.
Sylvia muttered under her breath.
"Insolent Ifrin."
"...What?"
It was an intriguing sight, but I ignored it and refocused on the lecture.
There were still two hours left in the class.
"Now, I shall distribute the crystal orbs. Allen?"
"Yes."
Allen placed a silk pouch containing the crystal orbs on the podium. I levitated them with telekinesis and distributed one to each group.
The difficulty of the mana disasters varied by orb. Some were challenging, others relatively simple.
The distribution criterion was the 'sum of the midterm scores of the group members.'
Naturally, Sylvia and Ifrin's team received the most difficult one.
The mages chattered excitedly over the orbs.
"Focus."
With that single word, the noisy atmosphere settled. The 150 debutantes fixed their gazes on me.
"From now on, I shall speak of the act by which you perceive the world—that is, 'observation.'"
I met their eyes as I spoke. An unconscious authority laced my voice.
"You likely view the world merely as phenomena."
If a scientist sees the world scientifically, a mage ought to see it magically. Yet reaching that realm requires maturation and proficiency.
For instance, an undergraduate engineering student cannot perceive the world scientifically. Not only do they lack the ability, but above all, it is unfamiliar.
At minimum, one must be a doctorate or higher to even glimpse understanding.
Mages are no different.
From observing these debutantes thus far, they do not analyze worldly phenomena magically.
"However, the world I see differs from the one you see."
This was no lie. Nor was it bravado or boast.
The world appears differently to me.
The power to see abstractions, phenomena, notions, concepts with the naked eye—Naked Eye.
Its trait advances in tandem with my accumulating magical knowledge.
"From now on, I shall convey to you the world as I see it."
Observation via the Naked Eye might seem inexplicable at first glance, but it is not.
These are debutantes of the empire's premier university tower, elite mages of exceptional talent.
Thus, the method of instruction is straightforward.
"Miss not a single word I utter, nor a single line of the formulas I draw."
If I express the process by which I observe the world with the Naked Eye, they will use it as a textbook to study on their own.
Gazing upon the Naked Eye's vista and imitating it directly suffices.
The effect has already been proven through experiments on Allen.
"Let us begin."
I first reproduced the mana disaster contained in a small crystal orb: 'Frost Mist.'
"Frost Mist. To me, this disaster appears thus."
The mist transformed into lines and circles. I manifested the process slowly and vividly.
The mages watched with their eyes and scribbled notes with their hands.
"Sea of Flames. This mana disaster, which incinerates ships and sailors at sea, is rather unique. Since the sea itself turns to flames, evolution is nearly impossible..."
I displayed various mana phenomena exactly as I saw them.
I strove to convey the world observed by the Naked Eye.
One, two, three, four...
After demonstrating eight times, I checked the clock.
5:59:50.
"...Forget not the world I have shown you today."
I straightened my sleeve. I smoothed the wrinkles in my suit.
"To view and contemplate every passing phenomenon magically—that is the way of the ordinary mage."
The mages' gazes were vacant. Their notebooks brimmed with formulas.
"That mindset is the beginning."
Precisely at 6:00.
"However, greed is forbidden. Master small things first, in measure with your capacity."
With that, the class ended.
I left the lecture hall, leaving them behind.
"Well done."
The mages did not rise from their seats.
...After class ended.
Ifrin stared blankly at her notebook. Each page overflowed with geometric patterns—the complete record of Deculein's 'mana disaster substitution process.'
"Ah... So that's why the mist turns to dirt... Ah, my head's gonna explode..."
It's hard. Incredibly hard. Maddeningly difficult, but doable.
At first, it seemed utterly impossible, but she was gradually getting the hang of it.
Ifrin replicated the process Deculein had shown. A tiny dirt mist floated fluffily in her palm.
This is it.
Yes, this is it.
This is dirt mist...
"Now it finally feels like a real class."
Her groupmate Yurojan spoke. Ifrin nodded.
"Right? My head's killing me."
"The professor's amazing. How does he even..."
"...Yeah."
Deculein had described the process of formula-izing mana disasters in exquisite detail. Ifrin marveled at its fluid smoothness, yet harbored some doubt.
"If that's truly Deculein's skill."
Today's display was impressive.
But Ifrin couldn't help suspecting. The possibility that he had secured a 'new slave' to replace her father.
Of course, she had no intention of exposing or accusing him outright.
One day, far in the future or near at hand, she would uncover the truth herself.
"Insolent Ifrin."
Sylvia glared at Ifrin and grumbled. Ifrin shrugged.
"What? Anyway, we should meet up sometime for the group project. When's good?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
No one spoke. Ifrin nodded.
"Then, Sylvia's mansion."
"Who decided that."
"Your place is the biggest. Nowhere else for all five of us."
"Fine. But you don't come."
"...Why you gotta be so childish?"
Meanwhile, in Yukline territory, preparations against the 'Marik opening' were in full swing.
"Progress report?"
In the mountainous region not far from the northwestern mining district, Yeriel asked from horseback. It was the red-maned horse Deculein had recommended as fine.
"Barriers, watchtowers, and fortifications are all nearing completion. The underground road is still under construction, but should finish by summer."
"Good."
Yeriel spoke with uncharacteristic sternness. She surveyed the area.
Suddenly, Deculein's letter came to mind.
...Once Marik opens, mana beasts will swarm first. Deploy forces efficiently: build barriers, watchtowers, and fortifications at northwestern key points. I shall designate the sites.
Moreover, the road to Marik should run underground rather than on the surface. Call it the underground road and charge tolls for swift profits.
"Certainly, building here gives a clear view of everything."
"Yes. A prime location. Your eye for geography is remarkable, Lady Yeriel."
The overseer responded to her musing. Yeriel shot him a glance and pulled out the letter from her bosom.
She read the second of its four pages.
...Under no circumstances send bribes to the imperial court or bureaucrats over Marik. The emperor ignored his subjects and opened it. He shall not waver by their words, acting solely by his convictions.
Nor seek the emperor's favor. He abhors falsehood and flattery. He favors liquor, however; if sending tribute, the finest wine suffices.
"What a fortune-teller..."
Just as the retainers considered bribes—how did he know?
Then, a cold crystal landed on Yeriel's nose. She widened her eyes.
Snow.
"Huh?"
She tilted her head and held out her gloved hand. A snowflake settled on her palm.
"!"
Startled, Yeriel hurriedly unfolded the third page.
...Occasional anomalous weather will occur. No need for panic, but it may herald demons—fortify defenses especially if snow falls in midsummer.
"What the hell..."
Yeriel furrowed her brow.
I thought he was just pretending to be a genius, but he really is one?
No way. How could Deculein be a genius?
"...Come to think of it, it started then."
Yeriel recalled early this year.
Deculein's change began after that week-long seclusion, skipping all schedules despite his rigid routine.
She had thought it due to Julie's rejection... but perhaps something greater.
"Eh, do I really need to know?"
Whatever it was, Deculein had returned to his former self—the prodigy of old.
Not a wholly bad change; no need to stir trouble.
Yeriel pocketed the letter and bellowed.
"Attention!"
At her clear command, all in the fort turned to her.
"Anomalous weather may signal demons—heighten readiness! Maintain strict vigilance, no solitary actions!"
Yes—!
The soldiers' roar echoed through the mountains.
"Fine response. I take my leave."
Satisfied with her commanding presence, Yeriel nodded regally like a monarch and gripped the reins.
The red-maned horse trod the snowy mountain path with ease.
The next day, 8 a.m.
Having finished my morning routine, I sat in the study chair and picked up a document.
Hailletchi Yukline Auction: Lucio's Scissors, Dark Floor Carpet, Ancient Saddle...
The first auction since acquiring the appraisal firm.
Items for sale: Lucio's Scissors and Dark Floor Carpet with awakened potential, plus three others. Their performance is evident at a glance; I anticipate pure profits of 60 to 100 million elne.
Knock knock—It's time, sir.
The butler knocked right on cue. I rose, opened the door, and descended the stairs with him.
"A total of 23 places?"
I asked the butler.
Today held many external ventures requiring my personal touch. Precisely, moneymaking.
"Yes, indeed."
"Good. We go together."
"Yes."
I boarded the prepared car. It headed straight for the capital's heart.
First stop: the hardware store 'Rockkan's Wharf.'
"Ah, you've come! We were waitin'!"
The owner, who invented odds and ends while running the store, had caught a 'great tycoon's' eye with his skill.
I drafted an investment certificate for him. 3 million elne total, securing 30% stake.
"Thank ye! Won't disappoint!"
"I expect not."
Next: the hotel 'Romance.' On the verge of collapse, yet its new owner sought investors.
I drafted one for her too.
4 million elne total, 40% stake.
"Hngh..."
"Cry, and it's canceled."
"...Hic!"
The owner stifled tears of gratitude.
"Focus on remodeling. Mentioning Yukline will ease material procurement."
"Th-thank you, thank you!"
Then shops, trading firms, forges, mercenary bands... 23 ventures across the capital, handpicked by the 'great tycoon's' eye.
Total investment: 80 million elne, to rise to 120 million later.
"Well done, Roy. Now home."
"Yes."
Sunset approached as we returned to the mansion.
Gazing at the crumbling dawn, I exhaled softly.
A satisfying day. Today's cash would soon balloon into vast human and material assets...
"What?!"
Roy in the passenger seat widened his eyes. I looked too.
A lavish carriage and crowd loitered at the gate, emblazoned with the imperial crest.
"Master."
Roy's voice held rare urgency. I nodded and alighted.
The imperial entourage turned to me. Among them, a named knight.
Kairon, the emperor's direct guard.
The blond Kairon approached.
"Deculein von Grahan Yukline. An imperial missive. Receive it with due courtesy."
I knelt and accepted it.
Its contents read:
The Imperial Court informs Deculein, chief professor of the Imperial University Tower and head of Yukline, that he is shortlisted for the honor of sharing magical insights with His Imperial Majesty the Emperor... This is boundless glory for both house and mage, yet first, one must solve the problem crafted by court mage Georg.
"Will you attempt it? If your skill falls short, the court shall not mind your forfeiture."
I rose.
Tedious, but such events cannot be refused. Quests tied to the imperial family offer immense rewards.
"How could I not?"
"Very well."
Kairon handed me the magic paper. A B4-sized sheet dense with formulas. I stared intently.
Nearly 4,000 mana later, I derived the answer.
The logic felt familiar.
Rune Language.
I inscribed the solution formula on the answer sheet.
"Congratulations. I am Georg, mage of the court. If you have solved this..."
⟨ Solution Verified ⟩
I infused mana, and a voice emanated. Kairon and the imperials, turning to leave, startled and looked back.
Kairon asked awkwardly.
"...Already s-solved it?"
"Yes."
"How? Lord Georg surely—"
The answer sheet's voice continued.
"I reckoned a day or two at quickest, three days at most. Though who knows. You see now it employs the Rune Language."
"Not boastful, but I labored to make it neither too hard nor too easy..."
As the voice droned, Kairon approached. Confusion rippled his brow.
"...Yukline von Deculein, Yukde—no, Deculein von Grahan Yukline..."
Kairon drew a card stamped with the imperial seal from his inner pocket.
"The imperial invitation. You are selected."
"My thanks."
I bowed with dignity and grace.
...The imperial palace, built on the empire's most exalted site, is a world unto itself. Its inner sanctum is profoundly magical.
All four seasons coexist eternally in the palace. Centered on the imperial hall: northeast winter, northwest summer, southeast spring, southwest autumn.
Thus, the emperor lives amid all seasons.
Imperials call this miracle 'the gods' blessing.'
"Is that so? Then why a separate selection exam? Just appoint Deculein."
In the secluded study of the imperial palace, brimming with ancient tomes, Sophien received Kairon's report.
"Still, best observe further."
Sophien raised a brow.
"Observe what? Not a day—even five seconds."
"Five minutes."
"Such a gulf between five seconds and five minutes?"
"...Sixtyfold."
Sophien chuckled at the meek reply. Kairon bowed, embarrassed.
"You prefer that Ruina over Deculein?"
"...Not personal taste. The palace suits a flawless mage. Deculein has many rumors. Ruina solved it quickly too."
"In three minutes?"
"...Three hours."
"Hmph. The gap from ten seconds to five minutes pales against five minutes to three hours. Speak not of rumors to me. I trust only what I see."
Sophien took Georg's exam paper.
"..."
She peered with laser-like eyes.
Tick—
Tick—
Tick—
After precisely 300 ticks, Sophien's shoulders shook.
"Five minutes passed. Unsolved. When he comes, ask how."
"...Yes."
With that, Sophien decided.
The emperor's tutor mage would be Deculein.
"The knight selection still ongoing?"
"Knight trials are practical; not yet begun. Will take longer."
"Didn't the preparator get injured?"
Isak von Derek Rugeden.
The imperial knights' vice-commander, wounded on Marik expedition.
Or perhaps self-inflicted. Isak opposed the opening.
"Seeking another candidate."
"Candidate... Ah."
Suddenly, Sophien smirked mischievously.
"A fine idea."
Kairon sensed ill omen in it. He watched the emperor silently.
"This will be amusing. Listen well. The examiner anyway..."
Kairon sighed at the emperor's laughing proposal.